On Their Feet
by insidejokes
Summary: It did strange things to people. Tartarus. By strange, Percy meant mess with your head, bring out your deepest fears, and make you beg for death. That kind of strange, he thought, as Annabeth fell to her knees beside him, was not the good kind.
1. Chapter 1

On Their Feet

_Woohoo, it's me again! This time with something a little different- a Percy Jackson story! Because I just finished rereading MOA for about the fourth time, and literally could not stop crying the entire time. So then I wrote this, and just cried some more. _

_This is dedicated to Taylor the ULTIMATE PJO fan. Ever. _

_Seriously, you're obsessed, Taylor, get help. _

_Enjoy! _

It did strange things to people. Tartarus.

By strange, Percy meant mess with your head, bring out your deepest fears, and make you beg for death.

That kind of strange, he thought, as Annabeth fell to her knees beside him, was not the good kind.

Percy knelt beside Annabeth, who's shoulders seemed curled in on herself. Her matted hair fell in her face as she looked up at him. When their eyes met, Percy felt his grasp on reality (or what used to be reality) slipping ever further away. Annabeth had always been the normal one, the level-headed, logical one. Now, the reassurance a look into her eyes had once given him was gone. They stared wildly at him, having seen everything there was to fear, but knowing there was more to come.

When she spoke, her voice was entirely different. "I can't do it."

No sooner had she finished, than Percy had gathered her into his arms, burying his face in her hair and whispering. "Don't say that." His voice, like hers, was cracked and weary from lack of, well, anything, really. He held her tightly, as if she was the last thing he had in the world- because, he realized, she was.

Annabeth was shaking her head, voice growing louder and louder. "I can't, we can't, and we're kidding ourselves if we think we can. We'll never get out of here, and it'll be dark, forever. This is it! I-"

"Stop." Percy said, and she did, if only for a moment out of sheer shock. His voice had sounded harsher than before, and for the first time, the real toll that Tartarus had taken showed. Because really, for all of his pathetic attempts at humor, for all the witty remarks he could muster, they were in the same boat, him and Annabeth. They were the only thing that the other had, in this new world of darkness and horror; where quests and tasks seemed infinitely far away.

He heard a light sob, and realized Annabeth was crying. Something inside him broke, which he hadn't thought possible, by now. She was Annabeth Chase. She could do anything she wanted, and gods help you if you tried to intervene. She was unbeatable, unbreakable- and the few times that she came close, she fought with all her might, never coming close to giving in.

Until now.

"Hey." Percy said, and a quiet kind of desperation took hold of his voice. "Hey, don't worry. We... We're going to get out of here, Wise Girl."

"No-"

"Yes." Percy insisted, drawing her back, looking into her eyes. "We will get out of this." _You will get out of this. _He wouldn't- couldn't let anything happen to her. Not after this.

It was silent, for a long moment. Drawing her close to him, under his arm, he lay back on the ground, absently drawing circles on her arm. "Remember, I told you about the Roman city?" She didn't make any move to respond, but Percy continued anyway. "I figure we'll live there one day."

He glanced down at her still figure, and after a moment, kept speaking, partly to her, and partly to himself, to break the suffocating silence. "Probably get married. Eventually." Something he hadn't thought possible happened- a faint smile ghosted across her lips, for the briefest of seconds. Grasping desperately at the glimpse of normality, Percy continued quickly. "I was thinking it'd be on the beach. At sunset."

It wasn't like he had anything to lose.

"You'd be an architect. I'd be... I haven't got there yet. But it'd be something awesome." His voice had taken on almost a lull, and he felt Annabeth relaxing slightly under his touch. He squirmed on the uncomfortable ground, then decided this was as good as it was going to get, under the circumstances.

"Maybe a couple kids. Someday." He was spilling everything now, his most secret thoughts that he'd never imagined sharing because, frankly, they'd kind of scared him.

How stupid he'd been.

"I guess it's your choice, though." Percy said, in an almost conversational tone, staring out into the nothingness surrounding them. "As long as I've got you." He looked at her, craning his neck to see her face. It was entirely slack, and more relaxed than he'd seen it in any time he could remember.

She'd fallen asleep. For a moment, he wondered if she'd have a nightmare, then he stopped himself. A nightmare would be a reprieve, now.

He tore his gaze away, but tightened his hold on her, settling himself into a different position, careful not to disturb her.

He would have killed for a pillow pet.

Then, he would have killed for a lot of things.

The all consuming darkness pressed down on him, and he felt more alone than ever before. Because really, dreams of a nonexistant future could only last so long, here, in this place where there was nothing but him and her.

And there it was, the cruel twist that made this so difficult.

Her. Annabeth was there- and as long as she was, Percy was not alone. He couldn't give up entirely. Not on her. She, his finally broken, finally shattered Annabeth, had protected him from everything the world had thrown at them, including himself.

It was his turn, now.

So that became his only reason for stumbling on, carrying her, at times. He had to protect her. He had to push on with this impossible task for as long as he could, and more- and it was impossible, he knew that much.

No matter how hard he tried to tell himself different, there was no way either of them was getting out of this.

They were dead on their feet.


	2. Chapter 2

_I wasn't planning on continuing this, at least not for a long time. However, one thing led to another, and here it is! If all goes well (fingers crossed) this'll be a sort of continuation of MOA, leading into House of Hades. Hope you enjoy, and any reviews = AWESOME! _

**Three Days Earlier**

Leo didn't think it was possible to feel worse.

To be fair, the giant statue staring him down probably wasn't helping.

Leo looked up and across the hold towards the head of the Athena Parthenos, which stood as tall and intimidating as ever, refusing to be cowed by the cramped, dark quarters. The godess' piercing eyes seemed to be staring at him reproachfully, as if she was debating whether or not to incinerate him.

He probably deserved it.

Leo sighed, chin in his hands. He'd never been the type to wallow in self pity, certainly not when there was such important work to be done- and he hadn't; not at first, anyway. On the contrary, he'd thrown himself almost worryingly into the manning of the Argo II, dashing around the ship with an almost manic kind of determination. He had tried to do everything because, really, that was the least he could do.

And the kicker? It would never, not in a million years, be enough.

Leo perked up automatically as the door to the hold creaked open behind him. At first he thought it was Jason, coming to tell him off for not resting. It had been nearly forty hours that Leo had gone without sleep, and Jason had approached him on the deck, stepping directly into his path as Leo ran towards the wheel.

"I need to-"

"No." Jason had said, authority clear in his tone. With Percy and Annabeth... gone (Leo couldn't let himself think about it), Jason had unofficially stepped in as leader, attempting to keep some kind of order. Which was why Leo had been so surprised when Jason had blocked his path.

"I've got to steer the ship." Leo'd insisted, trying to sidestep Jason, who had simply mimicked him, further blocking his path.

"You need to sleep, Leo. We need you at full strength, not running on fumes."

Leo had felt the beginnings of flames licking the tips of his fingers, but had stuck to shaking his head vigourously. "I can't."

"You have to-"

"I can't!" Leo insisted, and barely thinking, he'd shoved Jason backwards, stumbling to maintain his balance. Piper, who Leo hadn't realized had been watching, had stepped forward, holding out a calming hand. She'd glanced nervously at Jason, and had Leo cared to think, he would have been worried of Jason's reaction.

He hadn't cared, though. It was easier that way.

Leo had backed up nontheless, knowing he'd crossed some invisible line. He'd held up his hands pleadingly, attempting to make Jason understand. "Man, Percy and Annabeth are in _Tartarus_. They're probably dead, or dying- if they're lucky! I can't just sit around and do nothing." He hadn't been able to keep a pleading note out of his voice, and felt like a little kid again, trying to beg his mom to let him stay up late.

_Of course_, he'd thought, somewhat bitterly, _he should be used to losing by now. _

Leo'd met Jason's eyes, and the two had locked gazes unrelentingly. The waves, lapping against the hull in the background, were the only sound as Leo glared at his best friend. That was when he'd realized something.

He was really, really tired.

Also, being the weaker one _sucked._

"Fine." Leo'd said, breaking Jason's gaze. He'd turned, and seen the rest of the crew scattered across the deck, not even trying to hide the fact that they'd been listening. Leo'd scanned the group, and locked eyes briefly with Frank, who's tense look softened minutely. "Fine." Leo had repeated, looking back towards Jason. "Three hours. Then you wake me up."

"Fine." Jason had echoed, in a purposefully light tone.

And so Leo had staggered off to the lower decks, towards his cabin- at least, he'd intended to go to his cabin. He'd been walking down the hall, and then had caught sight of the doors to the hold.

What? He was ADHD.

So there he was. Sitting in the company of an ancient, much too realistic statue that had come at much too high a cost. He braced himself for a rallying talk from Jason, but as footsteps creaked on the floor, Leo realized the person was walking with a limp.

He instantly ruled out Annabeth, then hated the fact that he did.

"That won't help, you know."

Leo let out a dry laugh, with none of his usual humor, as Nico Di Angelo sat down carefully beside him. "Don't know what you're talking about." Leo responded, not making eye contact. It was quiet for a moment, then he looked over at Nico, studying him curiously, but somewhat warily.

He was a weird kid- the kind that wouldn't survive a second in the streets, at least not at first glance. Gaunt, pale face contrasting almost comically with his night black hair, Nico looked like a goth who didn't get enough hugs as a child.

Although, when Leo looked deeper, he thought he saw something more. Some kind of deep-rooted, primal urge; not to survive, but to fight. Nico looked as if he'd seen every dark secret the world had to offer, and had emerged unimpressed and a little broken.

This scrappy kid had seen a lot.

Too much.

"Are you here to yell at me for Jason?" asked Leo conversationally, looking back towards the massively creepy statue.

Nico shrugged. "I'm not much for yelling."

Leo nodded, glancing towards him. "Draws too much attention?"

The black haired boy smirked dryly. "Who's listening, anyway?"

It was ominously quiet for a long moment, and Leo pulled a few bolts out of his belt, absently playing around. The words he wanted to say were heavy on his tongue, and he couldn't seem to force them out.

"Are they dead?" Leo choked. "Annabeth and Percy?" Nico turned his gaze to him, no expression on his face. Leo thought he seemed unusually unaffected, but when the boy spoke, his voice seemed to waver slightly.

"They're in hell." He said, then looked straight ahead.

Leo fought a lump in his throat. "Is that my answer?"

Nico looked up at the statue with mild interest, looking right into its eyes as the remnants of a cobweb drifted down towards them. "I think," Nico began, "It should be. But it's not. Maybe it's Percy, or maybe I'm wrong, or maybe they're just lucky, but they're not dead. Yet."

Leo smirked, and for the first time in what felt like forever, felt a ridiculous urge to laugh.

"Lucky." He said, shaking his head. "That's it."

The only good thing that had come from this: Leo wasn't the crazy one anymore.

Oh, who was he kidding? They were all nuts.

_Lucky. _


	3. Chapter 3

_HELLO! The gang and I are back with another update. To everyone who reviewed, favourited, or followed this story- I will never, ever be able to thank you enough! Seriously, everytime I read a new review (Even if it's from you, Taylor :P) it makes my entire day- no, scratch that, my life! :) _

_This chapter is kind of a filler, but the action will be picking up again soon! Nonetheless, please enjoy, and please review. _

If there was one thing Jason had learned from Camp Jupiter, it would be that a leader can never _stop _being a leader. Once elected praetor, Reyna had told him, you had to be calm and level-headed. You could never drop the illusion of being in control, especially when it was just that: An illusion.

Partly because of that, and partly because he didn't know what else to do, Jason was doing his best to seem like he knew what he was doing.

Unfortunately, the effect was somewhat ruined by the storm cloud hovering over his head. Almost as if the cloud knew what was happening, there was no rain- just the crackling of electricity that was making Jason's hair stand on end.

Sometimes, the calm was just an illusion.

And sometimes, that was painfully obvious.

Jason looked to his left as Piper approached, leaning slightly on him. She looked up at him searchingly, and he did his best to smile reassuringly. She returned it, but he saw in her eyes that she didn't buy it for a second.

"Y'know," she began quietly, so only he could hear, "Leo probably isn't sleeping, right?"

Jason smirked dryly. "Yeah. I know."

"You also know that you haven't slept for just as long?"

Jason looked at her almost sheepishly, and she raised her eyebrows. He shrugged, trying to get out of her scrutiny. "I've got to make sure we keep going." Piper shook her head, smiling knowingly.

"Do you?" He glanced at her, and she sighed. "Jason, you stopping doesn't mean we all stop. We can keep going. You don't need to be our leader all the time."

Despite himself, Jason couldn't help but sound a little defensive when he asked, "You don't think I can do it?"

Piper bit her lip. "I think you can- but I also think that _you _think you have to." Jason averted his eyes. He loved Piper, he did, but sometimes she didn't understand. He _did _have to. He had to control what he could, while he could, because things were all to quickly spiraling far out of his reach. Almost as if she could read his thoughts, Piper nudged his elbow gently, and he pushed back jokingly, letting his arm rest around her waist.

She looked up at him, almost pleading him to listen. "Jason, you aren't at camp anymore. We're a team." She turned her head, and Jason followed her gaze around the deck. Sitting cross-legged a small distance away, Hazel and Frank were talking in hushed tones. Frank's eyes were tinged red. A ways down, Nico Di Angelo and Leo were emerging from below-decks, and Coach Hedge was pacing up and down in front of the door.

Something inside of Jason hardened. He trusted these people with his lives- Leo and Piper especially, but everyone on the Argo had become family. Some things you just couldn't go through without getting close to each other, and living on a giant warship while trying to save the world was one of them.

And yet.

The ship, despite the dark circumstances surrounding their quest, had always been a lively place. Now, with two such integral parts of their team gone, the Argo II was quiet and solemn. A somber air had descended over everyone onboard, demoralizing them and leaving them searching for something that was, quite probably, out of their reach forever.

Jason exhaled sharply, and very suddenly, spun Piper into a crushing hug. He wasn't much into PDAs, but now, as he rested his chin on the top of her head, he thought it had been just what he needed. He'd felt Piper, initially, stiffen in surprise, but she quickly softened into his hug, responding in kind. He pressed her tightly to himself, then felt her draw back. She looked up at him, surprised. He kind of thought it was in a good way.

"What was that for?" Piper asked curiously, and Jason felt stronger than he had in a while. He smiled grimly.

"The team." Their eyes met briefly, and Jason spun the opposite way, raising his voice to get everyone's attention. "Can we all gather over here for a minute?"

Everyone looked up, and began to make their way towards the front of the boat, Frank helping Hazel to her feet. Coach Hedge, even without the normal hop in his step, arrived first. "What is it, Grace?" His voice sounded wearier, much older, somehow. As the group congregated around them, Jason felt the cloud over his head disintegrating, sparks flying wildly.

"We," he began, "are going to find them." No one had to ask who he was talking about.

"How?" asked Leo, smile gone from his face.

Jason shrugged. "No idea." Identical looks of surprise appeared on everyone's face as they registered the fact that Jason Grace, the compulsive organizer, was winging it.

Jason loved it.

"I have no clue how we're going to do this, but we are doing it. Percy and Annabeth didn't fall into Tartarus for nothing." Nico winced almost invisibly, and Jason continued. "We have the statue. We have the new plans." He gestured to Leo. "We have Nico, who's probably the best person we could ask for right now."

"I dunno, I probably would have gone for a Victoria's Secret model-"

"The best demi-god we could ask for." Jason clarified, as Leo looked chastined and Hazel looked scandalized. Jason briefly wondered who'd told her about the lingerie store, then decided he had better things to think about. He turned to Nico. "Do you know where we should go?"

Everyone's attention turned to the dark haired boy. Though he was the youngest of them all, everyone but Hazel had been somewhat wary of Nico. Something in his eyes didn't look quite sane, and he had a dark aura around him like he spent way too much time with dead people. When he spoke, it was with a mild, and slightly bored voice. "I think." They looked at him, and he clarified. For the first time, some emotion was present in his voice. "Before... Percy told me to lead you to the other side. I assume he meant Epirus, the mortal side of the Doors of Death."

"Which are where, exactly?" Frank asked, and Nico looked at him darkly.

"Greece."

"You don't sound too happy about that." said Piper, hint of a question in her tone.

Nico sighed, with the air of someone about to deliver horrible news. "We don't know where in Greece the doors are. We're being chased by angry Romans. We're not prepared."

Leo bristled defensively. "The Argo can handle it." He glanced at Festus protectively, but Nico shook his head.

"You don't understand. Ancient Greece is where everything began- the monsters, titans, even the gods. The life source of the Olympians moves around every so often; you know that right now it's in America. But a part of the gods and monsters will always be in Greece. The two are entwined- you can't have one without the other."

"So you're saying," Frank cut in, "That some aspect of every Greek monster will be there."

"Now that the Doors are open, yes. Anything and everything that was once a part of Greek mythology could be there."

For a minute, it was silent, then Jason spoke up. "We can do it." They all looked at him like he was crazy, but Jason continued. "We're motivated. We're strong. We're fighting for something other than ourselves." They looked around at each other, his words obviously sinking in.

For the first time, Jason loosened his grip on Piper, pacing around the circle ferverently. "Leo, you need to start on the updates for Festus. We need everything we can get. Frank and Piper, we've got to start working on the whole camp problem. Nico, Hazel- start thinking about the Doors of Death. Anything you know will help." He turned to face the group, and felt, for the first time in days, something of that energy that had orginally been with the group.

"What about you?" Coach Hedge asked, twirling his club.

Jason let out a long breath, tense shoulders relaxing slightly. "I," he said, with a small, surrendering look at Piper, "am going to take a nap."

With a small amount of trepidation, he glanced around the group, looking for judgement in their eyes. Instead, he saw only a steely kind of determination, matching his own.

They would get their friends back.

They'd close the Doors of Death.

And gods-damnit, he'd find a way to get back to his camp when this was all over.

To _both _of his camps.

The mood had changed on the Argo II. It was still sad, definitely, but it was more alive, somehow. The everpresent shadow of Gaea was still looming over them, but now it seemed broken.

The lightening arking over their heads was probably helping.

Jason smiled, despite himself. Now all he had to do was sleep.

Then he- no, then _they _would figure it out.

Unfortunately, three old ladies chose that moment to fall from the sky directly on top of Jason.


	4. Chapter 4

_New chapter! Yay! This one was tough to get out, and it probably shows, so I'm sorry for that. BUT don't give up on me yet- the next few chapters are solid Percabeth. Bear with me readers, we're getting there._

_As always, reviews make my life, and I honestly happy dance over every one. So enjoy the story, Merry Christmas, and may the odds be ever in your favour._

_Sorry. I watched the hunger games today._

It wasn't every day three old ladies fell from the sky onto the deck of your ancient Greek warship.

But to be fair, Frank reckoned, it wasn't every day you were on an ancient Greek warship, either.

Grabbing Jason's arm, Frank and Piper tugged a slightly disoriented Jason out from under the three old women- who, quickly and with a grace that didn't match their age, got to their feet.

The crew of the Argo studied them carefully. The three of them were, quite literally, skin and bones. Their almost translucent skin and wispy white dresses gave the impression that, any second, they might be carried away by a stray gust of wind. And yet, despite their appearances, Frank felt a sudden, very powerful urge to get as far away as possible. He glanced at Hazel, who's hand drifted to her jacket pocket. Frank briefly wondered if the old women had any kind of fire powers, then Nico stepped forward.

"_Moirai._" he said, in the closet to a respectful tone Frank had ever heard from him. The old ladies gazed at them all expressionlessly, emotionlessly. Hazel tugged Nico's shirt nervously, and he explained, without breaking the ladies' gaze, "The Fates."

Instantly, the mood darkened. You couldn't go on a quest, certainly not one like this, without questioning your own mortality once or twice. Each member of the seven had faced imminent death multiple times, so it wasn't anything new- all the same, fighting a monster was quite different to seeing the Fates in front of you, knowing that, with one errant thought, they could end you forever.

More than a little freaked out, Frank felt his heart pounding in his chest.

Then, of course, the Fates turned their glares on him.

Instinctively, he took a step back. Hazel took half a step in front of him, but was pulled back warningly by Nico. The tallest of the women approached Frank slowly, and as she did so, he saw that her face was slightly less lined than the other's.

When she spoke, her voice was raspy, like it hadn't been used in years. But it also sounded like it was once beautiful- once, long ago. "Demigod." she said, piercing gaze freezing Frank where he stood. "You are important to the sacrifice."

Frank whipped his head towards Hazel, and, as if sensing what he was worried about, the Fate almost smiled. "Your time will come. The other's will first. And what he decides will either save you or condemn you." The way she spoke, neither sounded like a preferable option.

Frank forced himself to speak, voice wavering under the stares of the fates and his friends. "Who are you?"

The woman looked at him, and her crooked back straightened marginally. "The Spinner. I am Catho. Birth, youth- all was mine. Is still, but..."

"But what happened?" asked Frank, curious.

For a moment, an unidentifiable emotion showed in the woman's eyes. "What happened? Life." Instantly, her face slipped back into it's emotionless mask. "Thousands of them." She trailed a hand slowly through the air, and as she did so, a thin strand of blue yarn appeared, hovering in midair. Nico inhaled sharply, and muttered something that sounded like "Luke".

The fate didn't spare him a second glance.

"We rarely warn. It rarely helps." She looked slowly across the deck, eyes landing on each of them in turn. They all started slightly as she did so, then she turned her gaze again to Frank. "Remember, demigod. Sacrifice goes hand in hand with choice."

She turned, and slowly shuffled back to her sisters. Without meeting anyone's eyes, she spoke again. "I am birth, and new life. But I am not the only fate." At her words, the oldest and ugliest Fate grinned toothlessly, making a scissor-like motion with her two fingers.

Then they vanished.

"Well," said Coach Hedge, in a conversational tone. "That was a first."

"Not in a good way." said Nico, a hint of panic in his voice. "They never give warnings- _ever._"

Leo raised his eyebrows almost past his forehead. "Maybe we're just special."

They all ignored him.

"This is going to be bad. And Frank- what do they mean, a sacrifice? What friend?" At Nico's question, the original five looked at each other, all with the same identical sense of dread.

Hazel answered with another question, her voice small but determined. "What did _you _mean? When you said Luke?"

Nico sighed, almost impatiently. "At the end of the Titan war, Percy and Annabeth watched Kronos and the guy he'd been posessing die. No one really knows what happened, but they said something about a blue thread. That blue thread had meant..." his voice trailed off, but no one asked him to continue.

Someone had to die for the war to be won.

They didn't know how. Or who. Or where. But Frank had a nagging suspicion.

It wasn't every day that you were on an ancient Greek warship.

It wasn't every day that you were visited by the fates.

Unfortunately for Frank, it _was _every day that your life was tied to a piece of wood. And to be quite honest?

It sucked.


	5. Chapter 5

_Yay, new chapter! Yay, percabeth! Yay for angsty flashbacks! _

_I'm being extra peppy because this chapter is just super depressing and full of Tartarus feels. D: _

_**NOTE: Italics are flashbacks, normal print is present time. **_

_Hope you like it, and every review is very much appreciated! ^-^_

Percy couldn't remember a time when everything didn't hurt.

_He opened his eyes, then blinked. It was so dark, it didn't make a difference. Those first few seconds, that's all it was: dark._

How stupid he'd been, to think that was all they had to face, darkness.

_Then it had started. _

He'd started to figure it out now, at least a little. It was horribly dark, pitch black all around with just enough light so that the shadows leapt out menacingly.

_Every part of him ached, as if he'd just fallen from a great distance- which, he realized, he had. But this was something more. It felt like millions of hands were grabbing at him, clawing with razor sharp nails. _

_Everything hurt. _

The pain had only gotten worse as they went on. They were tired, and hungry, and alone in the endless darkness. But still, they kept moving forward; and after Annabeth had collapsed, Percy pulled her arm over his shoulders, and they stumbled along.

_Percy moved for the first time, and realized that he had been covered by a filmy layer of cobwebs. Shaking himself loose, he wondered vaguely how long he'd been lying there. As he pushed himself to his feet, his hand scraped against something unfamiliar. _

Now, Percy wasn't exactly sure why he kept going, other than the fact that they had nothing else to do. It wasn't as if they had a map, leading them to the doors. For all they knew, they were only going deeper into the abyss.

Still, they kept going.

_Looking down, Percy made a strangled sound, and leapt backwards wildly. He'd been lying on a pile of human bones. _

_That was when it really hit him. _

Percy glanced to Annabeth. He was almost carrying her, now- her eyes had drifted closed, and her feet barely lifted with each step. Her face was constantly twisted in pain, and Percy knew that even know, she was fighting the voices that constantly echoed in their minds.

_They were in Tartarus. _

_"Welcome, my hero. Did I not tell you? The sacrifices come to me." Percy barely registered the sleepily amused voice of Gaea, as he stumbled over another bone, breathing wildly. _

_They were in Tartarus._

_They._

"Annabeth."

She didn't respond. Percy had started to expect that. Gritting his teeth, he tightened his grip on her waist, and took another step. It was only a matter of time before they came across some ancient evil that they'd have no chance of fighting. Even though he knew it was pointless, he lifted his head to scan the horizon.

_"Annabeth!" Percy screamed, searching wildly. He took a few shaky steps, then called her name again. He turned, staring desperately in every direction and seeing nothing but darkness and the remains of more skeletons. _

_For one sickening, heartwrenching moment, it was silent. _

_"Percy-"_

_He almost wept in relief at that one, choked out word. Dropping to his knees beside Annabeth, who was still stirring, Percy pulled the cobwebs off her before she could see what they were. He caught her in a crushing hug, and then realized that Annabeth was shoving him away. _

_"Why," she asked, glaring at him, "would you do that?" Her voice was almost hysterical, shatteringly loud in the silence. Percy looked at her blankly, and she gaped at him, looking majorly pissed. "You fell with me. Percy, you fell into Tartarus! You could have let go, they could have saved you!" _

_"Annabeth," said Percy, his voice calm and logical, "I was never going to let you fall. It wasn't even an option." _

_"It should have been!" She protested. "It's my fault you're down here. If anything happens to you, it's because of me!" _

_"Then I guess you can't let anything happen to me." _

_She met his eyes, and another argument died in her throat._

_This time, she hugged him to her. "Oh, Percy..." Percy closed his eyes, resting his head against the top of hers. _

_When he'd imagined a future with her, this had most definitely not been what he was talking about. They were sitting on a pile of bones, in the deepest depths of the underworld, in a place beyond their friends and the gods._

_This wasn't a future. This was a death sentence. _

_"What do we do?" _

_Percy drew back, and looked at Annabeth. "I..." He met her eyes, looking almost surprised. "I guess we find the Doors of Death." Annabeth's eyes widened, and Percy guessed that she, like him, had momentarily forgotten their cause. _

_If it even counted as a cause, anymore. _

_Annabeth nodded, seeming to resign herself to the idea of something to work for. As if this was just another quest. "Okay," she said, forced lightness in her tone, "how do we do that?" _

_Percy met her eyes, almost apologetically. "I was sort of hoping you'd have a plan for that, Wise Girl."_

And so they'd gone. With no other real option, they'd picked a direction and started walking. Even when the walking turned to limping and limping turned to staggering, they'd continued towards nothing and everything.

It was grasping at straws, but they had nothing left to lose. At this point, Percy had resigned himself to never seeing light again.

Maybe that was why, when Percy raised his head to look into the darkness ahead, he could scarcely believe his eyes.

Up ahead in the distance, there was some sort of structure, with silhouettes of people moving around.

Up ahead - and Percy blinked a few times, because it couldn't be real, could it? - was what he'd given up on seeing ever again.

Light.


	6. Chapter 6

_FINALLY! A NEW CHAPTER! I swear, fighting monsters has got to be easier than balancing exams and writing time!_

_Semi-Important Info: The guy in this chapter is actually a real part of Greek history. Look him up, it's a cool story. Also, in case it'll help to visualize, I pictured the dean from community as Salmoneus. _

_Reviews = Faster updates. :) Thanks for reading, hope you like it! _

To say he was surprised was a bit of an understatement. With what he had experienced thus far of Tartarus, Percy had assumed that it was basically everything horrible he'd imagined, and more. Monsters, dark spirits, physical and mental torture.

Given the aforementioned monsters, dark spirits, and physical and mental torture, it had seemed to go without saying that Tartarus didn't leave you with a lot of time to play dressup.

He should have learned, by now, to have no expectations.

"Where are we?" came Annabeth's voice at his side. She'd drawn her dagger warily, and was looking as puzzled as Percy had ever seen her. Percy's hand drifted to his pocket, but he didn't draw his sword yet.

"I have," said Percy, eyes wide as he gaped at their surroundings, "absolutely no idea."

After following the light, he'd blinked a couple times, not believing what he saw. They appeared to have wandered into a giant closet. Like one of the walk-ins the Aphrodite cabin would always talk about- only about a thousand times bigger. In boxes, on shelves or hangers, and littering every inch of the floor were... clothes. Clothes of every kind, every occaision. Looking around incredulously, Percy saw togas, Victorian ball gowns, disco-era jumpsuits, and a few extremely charred Camp Half Blood t-shirts. He looked at his own torn and dirty shirt protectively, before glancing towards Annabeth.

"Got any idea what this, Wise Girl?"

She didn't crack a smile, instead looking around cautiously, dagger held weakly in front of her. "No. I don't like it." Then she looked at Percy, and her voice faltered. "What do we do?"

Percy held her gaze. He could tell from her tone that Annabeth was trying to act the same way she normally did, powerful and in control. Had it been anyone else, Percy might have bought it, but he knew her too well. The slight shake in her voice hadn't gone unnoticed, nor the fact that she was still leaning slightly on him. He knew, however, that pointing that out would have been exactly the opposite of what she wanted.

With one last wayward glance into the stacks of clothing, he did his best to put a confident smile on his face. "Well," he said, "the way I see it, we're starving, exhausted, and hurt. Whatever's back there-" he gestured further into the closet "can only get better than this. Right?"

Annabeth looked at him steadily, seeming to weigh her options. It was the closest to herself that Percy had seen her since this whole thing started. He waited for some word from her that would tell him what to do, what to think- anything. Her jaw set.

"Don't jinx it. It can always get worse."

With that, she turned, and slowly, shakingly, started making her way through the sea of clothing. Percy pushed down the ridiculous feeling of disappointment, and hurried to catch up. Knowing that he was the stronger of the two at hand to hand (for now, at least), he moved in front of her, taking the lead as they lost themselves further in the ocean of abandoned clothes.

As they struggled on in the dim light, faint stirrings of noise reached them. They grew louder and louder, and Percy realized that it was the sound of someone singing. It was a high, nasally male voice; and, he realized dimly, it was singing 'My Heart Will Go On', from the movie Titanic.

Percy had never been able to relate to the movie, what with the whole son-of-the-sea-god thing, but this guy's voice made even him cringe. Fighting down an irrational surge of sympathy for Celine Dion, Percy looking at Annabeth, making sure she was ready. She checked on her splinted leg, then nodded, bracing herself for whatever lie beyond the last clothes rack. Percy looked at her a second longer, then, brandishing Riptide, flung the clothes to the side.

"Oh goody! New playmates!"

Facing them was- well, Percy didn't know who, exactly. The tall, skinny bald man in front of them didn't look like any god or monster he'd ever seen. Not to mention his outfit... Bell bottoms, a men's dress shirt, and muddy combat boots. He saw Percy looking at his outfit, and mistook the horror for interest.

"Oh, you like it? I was going for a Gloria Gaynor meets Breakfast Club teenage angst kind of thing, but I think I got kind of derailed in the formal section." All this he said without pausing for breath, then he finished abruptly, gaze snapping back towards Percy, who took a half-step in front of Annabeth. The closer the guy got, the more Percy could see that he looked, well, crazy. His cheeks were gaunt and something inside his eyes seemed to have snapped a long time ago.

"Who are you?" asked the man, drawing uncomfortably close to Percy so that they were almost nose to nose.

"Um," said Percy, drawing back awkwardly, "Demigods. Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase."

"Oh," said the man, drawing back suddenly, smile back on his face. "I've heard that name before." He turned, and started rifling through the boxes around him, talking over his shoulder as he went. "I don't get too many visitors down here y'know. People don't really understand how creative I am. That's okay, because you're here now!"

Behind his back, Percy and Annabeth had a rapid, silent conversation.

_Do you know him?_

_No, Chiron never talked about a crazy cross-dresser._

Percy looked away, stumped, and Annabeth raised her voice so the guy could hear her. "Uh... sir?"

"Yes dear?" Somehow the guy had pulled on a basketball jersey, and a large rainbow mohawk wig.

"We were wondering..." said Annabeth, in a carefully balanced tone, "Who are you?"

The man stopped rifling through the boxes, and froze. It was entirely silent, then, his back still to them, he spoke. "Who am I?" He let out a slow laugh that sent shivers up Percy's spine. It sounded like the Joker, from the Batman movies. "It's complicated."

As the guy slowly went back to searching through the boxes, Percy shook his head rapidly, forcing himself to focus. Maybe this guy was dangerous, maybe he wasn't, but as long as his identity was hidden, they had to assume the worst.

Percy scanned the room, searching for some clue to the man's identity. His eyes roamed over countless costumes from every time and country imaginable; and he noticed shelves lined with fine foods and drinks. Percy's eyes finally landed on... Was that the Master Bolt?

No, he realized. It couldn't be. Lying hapazardly on the ground was an incredibly accurate, barely flawed replica of Zeus' favoured weapon.

"You know Zeus?" Percy blurted, turning to the guy. The slim man looked over his shoulder at Percy.

"You could say that." A weird smile was on his face as he continued. "He's actually the reason I'm down here."

"How?"

"Well, you may not know this, but I have a deep love of costuming. Masquerades. Unfortunately, the people in _my _kingdom- I was a king, you know -were so not glamorous! Nothing short of boring, actually. So can you blame me for trying to jazz things up a little!"

Annabeth shook her head ferverently. "Not at all, um, your majesty." She shrugged towards Percy. "So how exactly did you try to 'jazz things up'?"

"Aha!" Seeming to completely ignore Annabeth, the man straightening up, holding a little piece of paper truimphantly in the air. "Found it!" He looked up, and met Percy's eyes. Following his gaze to the fake Master Bolt, he smiled. "In my time, there weren't many people to emulate. So I went for someone a little more... flashy."

Knowledge dawned in Annabeth's eyes, and the man grinned even wider. "Yes. I pretended to be Zeus. Had everyone convinced, too- but evidently, the king of the gods was just a bit offended. Sentenced me to Tartarus, and everything! I still have my costumes of course, and more are added every day, but let me ask you, dear-" The rainbow wig slid off his head, and his eyes widened. "What fun is life if you must be only yourself?"

"You're Salmoneus. You were ins-"

"Don't!" The king cut her off, and Percy felt the tension rise. "I am more than just some ancient king, girl! They don't believe me, but merely look around for proof- I am... anything, and everything I want."

Annabeth took a step back, repulsed, and Percy realized the guy was a lot more unstable than they'd given him credit for. Slowly, Salmoneus looked down at the paper in his hand. Then he looked up at them.

"People don't believe me. You don't either, obviously. I suppose it's only right that I do as my patron says." His voice was almost sing song, as Percy drew his sword at the mention of Gaea.

"We're leaving."

"Oh, hon," Salmoneus said, "You have a lot of choices in your life. That's not one of them." He snapped his fingers, and the clothes around them sprung to life. In the space of a couple seconds, a bejewelled ballgown and a kimono had grabbed Annabeth, hoisting her into the air. Percy tried to get to her, but invisible arms pushed him back. He sheilded his eyes, calling for Annabeth.

When the blur of fabric finally cleared, hovering in front of Percy was a struggling Annabeth, restrained by floating outfits, and with a gag stuffed in her mouth. Directly beside her was a floating Camp Half Blood t-shirt, hovering eerily in midair.

With a sinking feeling, Percy remembered that conversation at the river, what felt like a lifetime ago. _"I'll tell you this, Percy Jackson. The one who will cause you the most trouble is the one closest to you- the one who hates me most." _

"My, my, my." came the voice of Salmoneus from somewhere within the stacks. "Looks like we have a choice to make, don't we?"

Percy hadn't known exactly what Hera had meant by 'trouble'.

He figured this was probably his answer.


	7. Chapter 7

_Exams are over, which means a new chapter! Yay! _

_Does anyone actually read this story, other than the couple of people who review? (I love you guys, by the way.) Either way, this story is my favourite coping method until HOH. _

_Enjoy the chapter, my few readers, and see you soon with more!_

Percy had never been good at making plans.

What with ADHD, dyslexia, and his girlfriend being held captive by evil eveningwear- Percy was seriously having a hard time strategizing.

Without turning away from the captured Annabeth, Percy scanned the area for Salmoneus while cursing himself for being so unprepared. _Never trust a man in a clown wig. _The endless racks of clothes suddenly felt stifling. The psychopathic king had seemingly vanished, yet his laugh still echoed all around Percy.

Annabeth struggled against the dresses holding her, but let out a loud whimper when the gag was suddenly and harshly pulled tighter into her mouth. At the small, involuntary sound of pain from her, Percy's blood pounded in his ears.

"Let her go!" He looked for a path, an opening, but was surrounded. He'd never be able to free Annabeth without cutting her in half, and even if he did they couldn't escape.

The voice of Salmoneus rang out again, seeming to come from everywhere at once. "No, no I don't think I will, just yet. Didn't you hear me? You, dear boy, have a choice to make."

The floating orange shirt in front of Percy suddenly seemed too bright, letting off a kind of light that reflected from the various bottles and jars littered along the shelves.

As if realizing what Percy had, the voice sounded again, "I was sent to Tartarus by your mighty King of the gods. Those first years," his voice took on a darker tone, "were horrible. Now, however, my patron has saved me. She gives me my costumes, and my drinks, and my news of the world above... Such a lovely place, that camp of yours. A little after my time, you know, but still- it's where you and your lovely companion met isn't it?" Upon being mentioned, Annabeth struggled more vigourously against her captors, but Percy could see she was drained. "It really is lovely there." repeated Salmoneus, "It would be a shame if anything was to happen with, say, a vengeful, angry Roman army?"

Percy exhaled sharply. As soon as this guy had started talking, Percy had suspected he was insane- and not even in a cool, party pony way either. He'd _known, _but he hadn't done anything. And now he was stuck in this utterly impossible situation, berating himself. Annabeth was glaring at him fiercely, silently commanding him not to pick her. Percy couldn't look at her, so he stared at the sword in his hand. Then- slowly, dejectly, he lowered it.

Percy Jackson had never been good at making plans, at the best of time.

Now? He was trapped.

"Okay." he said, then raised his voice so Salmoneus could hear him. "Okay. I'll choose." As soon as he finished, the cross dressing king stepped out of the shadows, watching eagerly.

The worst part?

It was barely even a choice.

"Annabeth. Save her."

Instantly, the gag dropped from Annabeth's mouth. "No!" screamed Annabeth shrilly, as she tumbled to the ground and the Camp Half Blood shirt went up in flames.

Percy didn't hear her. He was too busy hoping that his powers extended to watered-down alchoholic beverages.

Because, really, it was barely a choice.

Certainly not a choice he was going to make.

Percy concentrated all of his energy on the bottles lining the shelves, some part of him wondering if his father could hear him praying from down here. Finally, something seemed to go his way, because the bottles exploded all at once. Liquid and shards of glass rained down, soaking the costumes. Salmoneus screamed in rage, but Percy was already running. He grabbed Annabeth's hand, pulling her to her feet, and slashed through the jumpsuit that was shooting towards them. Scarves were tangling themselves around their feet, pulling them back, but they struggled on, and Percy managed to grab some unbroken jars of what he hoped was food from the ground.

Percy turned, looking desperately to see if his madcap plan had worked. His eyes landed on the bright orange shirt. Orange- not ash black. No flames, and the shirt was intact. Before Percy had the chance to feel a sense of truimph, however, his eyes landed on the insane king.

Clutching his soaked, ruined costumes to his chest, Salmoneus had a kind of insane anger in his eyes. Any illusion of sanity was long gone. "Percy Jackson!" he screamed, "You have done nothing but doom your precious camp! Your choice was made- you cannot cheat the Earth Mother!"

Percy's stomach dropped. He glanced at the Camp Half Blood shirt, only to see it ripple, then disappear. He froze, but Annabeth tugged his hand, and he had no option but to run beside her; and kept running until the sound of Salmoneus' cries had long faded, and they were sprinting headlong into the neverending dark.

He probably would have kept going, but she stopped.

He heard her start to say something, but didn't catch the rest, because he slumped to the ground. Breathing hard, he gripped his hair in his hands so tightly it seemed as if he'd pull it out.

"I didn't mean to. I wanted to save... both." he panted, finally looking up at Annabeth, pleading her to understand. He gazed into her eyes searchingly, but she seemed almost wary, closed off.

Percy let out a strangled breath, desperate to make her see. "Frank told me... when his mom died... she had the chance to choose. The one of her men, who was injured, would slow down the rest of them. She had to choose," he repeated, "but she didn't. She saved them all."

"Percy," Annabeth said incredulously, "Frank's mother _died."_

Percy sighed shakily. "Didn't really think about that part."

Annabeth's breath caught in her throat, and she caressed Percy's cheek, looking at him differently, somehow, yet all too familiarly. "Percy, it's your fatal flaw. You would give up anything for a friend. Even yourself."

"Yeah well, it didn't do anything in the end."

"You tried not to choose."

"Did I?"

She didn't respond, because it was clear that he'd been asking himself as much as her. For once, she didn't have the answer- and Percy wasn't sure he wanted one. And for a long time, it was quiet, silence pressing in on the until it became almost unbearable.

At that point, she got to her feet, pulling him up with her. "Let's go." He didn't respond. "Percy." He met her eyes, and her voice was unusually soft. "There's nothing we can do now."

And then Percy saw that, despite her strong words, she was weaker than before. Her capture had shaken her, and he'd left her to pick up the pieces alone.

He couldn't leave her alone.

So he picked himself up.

Grabbed her hand in his.

And began the walk forward all over again.

Because, after all, they were in this together.

In that, they didn't have a choice.

"Reyna."

She looked up at the annoyingly familiar voice, and sighed. "What is it, Octavian?"

The auger glared at her. "The people are becoming agitated. They want to attack."

Reyna glanced out towards the Greek camp in the distance. It was slightly blurry, because of their defences, but still- demigods couldn't hide from other demigods. Greek, or Roman.

Part of her wished they could.

"They are Jason's family."

Octavian scoffed. "What they are is our enemies. Unless you think we should go down there and invite them over for a barbecue at- oh. Oh wait a minute. We _can't _invite them to our camp, because they destroy-"

"Enough." Reyna cut him off, looking once more at the camp on the horizon. Whatever sign she'd been hoping for obviously wasn't coming.

She was the daughter of war, and the praetor of New Rome.

She would do what she had to do.

"Attack."


	8. Chapter 8

_Aaaannnddd... we're back at the Argo for the next little while! These chapter have got me pretty excited- I actually researched for these, and the details just clicked! There's a semi-cliffy at the end of this one- see if you can guess who it is. ;) _

_Infinite thank you's to everyone who reviewed, you're all the reason this story keeps going! Enjoy this next installment, and see you soon!_

_Ciara_

It had to be Frank that he crashed into.

Leo had turned the corner without looking, colliding with what felt like a statue. Of course, it was Frank.

Of course.

The papers Frank was holding flew into the air, and Leo regained his balance.

"Sorry, man." Leo said in a would be casual tone, bending to pick up the papers. Frank did the same, grabbing them out of Leo's hands.

"I got it."

"No, really-"

"I said I've got it!"

Leo recoiled at Frank's unusually harsh tone. He straightened up, looking warily at Frank- who, he was surprised to see, was glaring back at him. The look seemed out of place on his baby face, but the guy was at least a foot taller than Leo, so he let it slide.

Leo looked at him rather weakly. "Look, I didn't... I just crashed into you, I wasn't-"

"You've done enough." Frank said, and for a second, the odd, angry look flickered into sadness. He picked up the last few pieces of paper, then turned to walk away.

And there was Leo's problem.

Sometimes, people didn't like him- be it because of his humor, his hyperactivity, or his devilishly good looks. Okay, maybe not the third -but the point was, he could deal with people not liking him, because those were all mostly valid reasons. Whether he liked it or not, Leo Valdez had some pretty bad qualities.

Being a liar was not one of them.

"Frank."

The big guy stopped, and Leo held out his hands in surrender. "Nothing ever happened with Hazel and me." Frank stared, stony faced, at the ground. Leo insisted, "Look... Hazel is... she's amazing, okay?" That was a safe enough word, right?

"She's amazing," Leo repeated, "but she's amazing with _you._ Yeah, maybe she loved someone else before, but not now. It was Sammy, then it was you. Not me."

Slowly, grudgingly, Frank met Leo's eyes. He seemed to be forcing some words. "She... It seems like she lo-"

"No." interjected Leo, not letting Frank finish. He knew what he had been going to say, and he didn't think he could stand to hear it; because, as he'd been talking, Leo had realized something: He really, really did have the worst luck with girls. Ever.

Leo looked earnestly at Frank, trying to push back his thoughts. "She loved the guy I look like. Not me. Now she loves you- and I'm telling you, man, I would _never _go near another guy's girl." Leo smiled in a would-be confident way. "That's against the bro code."

Frank half-smiled. He looked at Leo almost sheepishly, and when he spoke, it was hesitant, like he was revealing something important. "I've never had someone like Hazel. I never thought I would. So, I guess I react-"

"Hey, guys."

Leo jumped at the voice as Jason stepped out of the door behind them, his bunk. Out of the corner of his eye, Leo saw Frank straighten almost imperceptibly. He realized that Frank still thought of Jason as his praetor, someone who you always had to be on your best behavior in front of. And as much as Leo knew otherwise, he had to admit: Jason was a little (read: incredibly) intimidating. At this moment, though, Leo could have hugged him- the dude really picked the best time to interupt a conversation, and thank the gods he had. It probably wasn't a good idea for Leo to talk about Hazel for any length of time, because, well, come on; he was seriously ADHD, and was on the verge of blurting something really, _really _stupid.

"Hey!" he responded, with a bit too much enthusiasm. "I was just coming to get you."

"Yeah," intoned Frank, looking at Leo a bit oddly. "Me too."

Jason, though unaware of what he had interrupted, knew of the tension between Leo, Frank, and Hazel. Maybe it was because of that that he nodded, stepping subtly between the two. He gestured towards the disorderly papers in Frank's arms. "What're those?"

Frank shuffled them around, showing them nervously to Jason. "Uh, Piper and I, we were talking about the camps, and the attack. I said that- that I didn't think Reyna would do something like that if you were so against it." He winced, as if remembering a painful memory, and Leo was momentarily relieved that all he had to face was a noisy engine room instead of a jealous Piper.

He tuned back in, and realized Frank was still talking.

"She uh, she kicked me out after that. But we're pretty sure that the attack won't be happening immediately." He paused awkwardly, then trailed off, glancing nervously at Jason as if awaiting judgement.

Jason, clueless, clapped him on the back. "Awesome. Did you try contacting them?"

Frank nodded rapidly. "She said she'd Iris message them."

It was quiet for a second, then Leo spoke.

"I rigged the ba-"

"We've got something."

Leo turned, ready to chew out whoever had interrupted him (why was that happening so often today?) but stopped when he saw Nico DiAngelo. His normally pale cheeks were flushed, and his eyes held a kind of burning excitement. It almost gave Leo chills- everything about this kid was _intense _somehow, but not like Percy was; the son of Hades was all jutting angles and flares of emotion breaking through the small expressionless facade.

Jason was looking intently at the younger boy. "What do you mean, Nico?"

He continued, almost cutting Jason off. "Hazel and I, we were thinking about the Doors of Death, and then I remembered something my father had said."

"Which is what, exactly?" Leo interjected.

"We have to check it, first. We need to see if we're right." he turned to Leo. "How close are we?"

Leo thought fast. "I can dock us in ten minutes." There was an undercurrent of excitement, now, of a new task, new hope.

Jason nodded to himself, seeming to formulate a plan. "Okay," he said, and the familiar ring of authority was back in his voice. "Frank, you and I'll do a flyover, look for any threats, keep watch. Nico, you and Hazel need to follow up on your lead. And Piper can contact the camps, brief them on what happened."

Something clicked in Leo's brain. "Hey. What do I do?"

Everyone's eyes turned to him, Nico's glinting thoughtfully. "We could use someone else. It's dangerous."

Leo's eyes immediately went to Frank's. The taller boy looked like he had just tried to swallow a lemon- and that convinced Leo. He knew what he had to do. Before Frank could protest, Leo started talking rapid fire. "Frank, I'll go with them. I'll show you that-" he stopped, looking awkwardly at Jason and Nico.

Frank was looking between Jason and Leo, evidently debating his options. He locked eyes with Leo, staring at him as if making a decision. Leo did his best to look trustworthy, to show his sincerity on his face. Frank stared a moment longer, then seemed to decide. He exhaled, then looked at Jason. "Fine. Let's go." He seemed to realize, then, that he'd just talked casually to the praetor, because he flushed.

And so the groups started to disperse, heading one by one up the ladder to the top deck.

Leo knew he had something to prove. He also knew he had friends to save, not to mention the world.

But hey- he was the super sized mcshizzle. He had this in the bag.

Probably.

He thought.

Maybe.

_Right._

Other than that word, It was hard to explain, what flying felt like to Jason.

It was just... _right. _It filt as natural as breathing, yet so much more exhilerating.

Heart pounding rapidly, he soared downwards in a dive towards Frank- or rather, the giant eagle that was currently Frank. Together, they looped sideways, heading to the left side of the city.

Jason had never been on a formal tour of Greece, but he was pretty sure now: there was no way to see the city but in the air. Even then, he thought, it couldn't capture the real power of the small country underneath them.

He loved Rome, but there was something about this place that was older, somehow. Despite the renovated buildings and shorelines, it was painfully and beautifully obvious that in this city, the old and the new were so tightly interwoven, they could never be unravelled. From the tallest building, to the glowing ocean below, it was impossible to be in this place without feeling it.

This was where it had began. Maybe it had been dimmed, maybe Rome had defeated them, but this- this was the home of the gods.

He should have known, by now, not to get distracted.

A loud, obviously pained shriek echoed through the sky under him. Jason whirled around, and saw Frank hurtling towards the ground, as a large shadow flashed overhead. Sparing barely a thought for the - whatever it was - Jason sped downwards, grabbing a now human Frank's arm. It barely slowed their fall, though, because _wow_, the guy was as heavy as he looked, unconcious, dead weight.

Jason channeled his energy, using the wind under him to toss them onto a shingled rooftop. He tumbled painfully across the tiles, keeping a hold on Frank. He skidded to a stop, panting heavily. He rolled Frank off of him, checking his pulse as he did. It was there, definitely, but the guy was out cold, with a giant bruise on his forehead.

All of a sudden, the hairs on the back of Jason's neck stood up. Already on edge because of what had happened to Frank, Jason whirled around instantly, flipping his coin and catching the javelin in one swift motion.

At that moment, two things things clicked.

First, the bruise on Frank's head had been shaped like a hoofprint.

Second, he was most definitely not the most powerful one in the skies.

And this, he thought, staring wide eyed at the creature in front of him, this entire thing, was most definitely, entirely, wrong.


	9. Chapter 9

_I LOVE THIS CHAPTER! This is when we're getting into the good stuff. ;) We finally learn where the House of Hades fits in, more about the Doors of Death, and so much foreshadowing that I don't know where to start. Pay attention to the details in this chapter- it's __**very **__imporatant later on. *evil laugh* _

_Reviewers: you're my favourite people. Ever. (fictional characters not included :P) Enjoy this next installment, and see you soon with the next one! _

"Okay, I don't want to be _that _guy, but does someone want to tell me where the Hades we're going?"

Hazel stopped, exchanging a look with Nico. Hazel turned back to face Leo, who was panting. "Didn't mean that as a pun. Forgot you were both children of Hades."

Hazel and Nico looked at him skeptically.

"You know what- Forget it." Leo laughed, sitting down heavily and sending a small cascade of pebbles down the cliff.

"It wouldn't hurt to sit. For a minute." Nico sat down in front of Leo, then looked up at Hazel.

She didn't notice, looking upwards to the top of the steep cliff they were currently scaling. There wasn't anything there, save for a pile of rubble- but that didn't matter. The whole reason they were going there, the whole reason they were climbing this ridiculous slope, was what _used _to be there.

Her and Nico had been sitting on the top deck, brainstorming about the Doors of Death. That was one bad thing about being a child of Hades- anything to do with death, or darkness, and it automatically fell on you. And perhaps she was reading too much into it, but it seemed as though, ever since Percy and Annabeth had fallen into Tartarus, they'd all acted a little different around her and Nico.

She couldn't really blame them.

Hazel worked hard to defy the 'child of death' sterotype. It was immensely difficult, however, when you'd been dead longer than you'd been alive, your only living relative was a ghost magnet, and jewels popped out of the ground constantly at your feet.

She'd thought that, maybe, it would all finally be useful this time,

If her and Nico could figure out how to get Percy and Annabeth out of Tartarus, and seal Gaea in by closing the doors, maybe that would be enough. It could make up for that night in Alaska all those years ago, it could prove that she could do something right and stop what she had started. She would save her friends, and the rest of the demigods. This was her chance.

It had been Nico's idea.

"Hazel." she turned sharply at his voice, and saw him and Leo still staring up at her with mild concern. She realized they were still waiting for an answer to Leo's question from before.

With a sigh, Hazel sat down with them, crossing her legs beneath her. Where to start?

"Have you," she began, slowly, "ever heard of the House of Hades?" Leo shook his head.

"Sounds like a boy band."

Hazel opened her mouth to reprimand him, but Nico spoke up.

"I'd heard my father mention it, once. No idea what it meant. Then Hazel said something, today."

They both looked at her, and she spoke, playing with a small diamond on the ground in front of her. "We were trying to figure out what the prophecy meant, by the Doors of Death- if it meant it literally, or figuratively, or... We had no good ideas. Then I said 'How can one thing control so much?'. That was when Nico realized-"

"What if it wasn't just one thing?" That slightly frightening glint was back in Nico's eyes. Leo obviously saw it too, because he met Hazel's eyes looking a little worried- however, she was surprised to see, he dropped her gaze immediately, looking determinedly back at Nico. Wondering if she should be offended, Hazel listened as Nico continued.

"That's where the House of Hades comes in."

"And that is?..."

"His family."

"Woah, so you and Hazel-"

"No," Nico hastily cut Leo off. "His immortal family. Demeter, Goddess of the Harvest; Persephone, Goddess of Springtime; and Hades, Riches and Death. Gather the tokens of all three, and you have the power of the House of Hades. Power over death."

Leo looked somewhat shocked- which was pretty understandable, Hazel thought. She'd had almost the same reaction, but at the same time, hadn't been able to argue. She couldn't explain how, or why, but it just _felt _like the solution they'd been looking for. However, her gut had been wrong before. Horribly, disastrously wrong.

Leo seemed to be trying to speak and failing, which must have been a first.

"You," he said, finally finding the words, "want to control _death_?" Nico nodded gravely, and Leo shook his head vehemently. "That's bad. That's really bad."

"It could be the only thing that could help us stop Gaea."

"No- you don't... Okay, maybe it's different for you two, being the kids of Hades and all that, but death is forever. No offence, Hazel- I know that better than anyone. Tampering with it would be... ridiculous!"

Hazel looked at Nico, pleading for help. She hadn't expected Leo to protest so wholeheartedly- or maybe she hadn't let herself. She knew the dangers of tampering with death; it could have unforseen ramifications that made everything one hundred times worse than before. However, it could also be their only hope.

"Leo, if we don't close the Doors, Gaea will get out, and soon." Nico said, looking him right in the eye. "Percy and Annabeth will be the least of our worries, then: Gaea will take over the world. The gods will fade, and demigods'll probably go the same way. If we're lucky." Leo inhaled sharply, and looked ready to protest, but Nico continued.

"It's dangerous. It's desperate. But so are we. We need to fight fire with fire."

For a long time, after that, it was quiet. Hazel watched Leo, concerned- he was as quiet as he ever was, standing, looking over the edge of the cliff with his face twisted in thought. He seemed to be undergoing some inner conflict. Finally, after what felt like forever, he turned back to her and Nico.

They rose to face him, and he looked at them, looking completely and utterly torn.

"If we can complete this... House of Hades... we can close the doors?"

"We'll have the power to." said Nico. "If death is the doors, the House of Hades is the key."

Leo exhaled heavily. Then he looked at Hazel. "You still didn't tell me where we're going now."

For the first time since meeting Leo, Hazel felt nervous under the intensity in his gaze. She forced herself to speak. "It's called the Necromanteion. Ancient Greek temple to our father. It's been torn down, but we need to try getting his blessing to complete the House. This is as good a place to start as any."

To his credit, Leo took the news that they were travelling to a temple of death pretty well. His eyes bugged out a little, but other than that, he showed no reaction, almost to the point of it being a little odd.

"Well," he said, in a forced casual tone. "We should keep going."

So they did. In single file, struggling carefully up the side of the cliff to get to the top, not speaking, each alone with their own thoughts and doubts about what they were going to attempt.

"Thing is," Leo said, a while later to no one in particular, "about fighting fire with fire..."

Hazel paused. This was one saying she knew too well.

"Which of us going to get burnt?"

After a second, she started climbing again, sending a shower of pebbles scrabbling into the water below, disappearing into the endless, blinding blue.


	10. Chapter 10

_This chapter has got three things:_

_1. Mentions of Percy_

_2. More foreshadowing (you probably won't catch it this time, though)_

_3. PEACEFUL CONFLICT RESOLUTION haha jks these are demigods peaceful isn't their style._

_Reviewers- THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU! Happy Valentines Day everyone, and see you soon with the next chapter! _

"Arggh!"

Jason let out a strangled shout, stepping as far back as he could without falling off the roof. On the ground beside him, Frank grunted, still entirely unaware- at this point, Jason was pretty jealous.

In front of him, the giant, winged horse stared unflinchingly.

'Giant' seemed like too mundane of a word for this creature. It looked a lot like Percy's pegasus, Blackjack- that is, if Blackjack was ten times bigger, a hundred times more muscular, and about a million more intimidating. This horse, enormous feathered wings obscuring the sun, possessed none of the goofiness Jason had come to expect from Camp Half Blood's pegasi.

"Nice scream there, hero." The horse stared at him matter-of-factly. "Don't worry- I get that a lot."

Jason's mouth opened even wider. He hadn't seen the horse's mouth move- on the contrary, the words had echoed in his head, deep, powerful, and almost bored.

Trying to regain some control over the situation, Jason held up his hands in a gesture of peace. "You're... a pegasus?" A radioactive hulk pegasus, maybe.

"_A _pegasus?" The voice sounded offended. "Come on, hero. I've got my own constellation, I'm immortal and a half, and um, hello?" He flapped his wings pointedly. "I am not _A _pegasus. I'm THE Pegasus."

Woah.

Perhaps not a radioactive hulk pegasus.

A lot of thoughts were rushing through Jason's head at that moment, unfortunately, the only one that came out of his mouth was, "I can't talk to horses. That's Percy's thing."

What happened next was odd: Almost reluctantly, Pegasus let out a small whinny, an almost sad sound. He saw Jason looking at him curiously, then tossed his mane defiantly. Mind racing, Jason asked, slowly, "You reacted when I said Percy. Why?"

The winged horse eyed him, and though Jason tightened his grip on his sword, he didn't back down. Partly because he had no roof left as it was, but hey- he had to assert dominance somehow.

That's when it clicked- dominance.

"That was one of your riders, wasn't it? Perseus?" Jason said, excitedly, all of the thoughts coming back to him. Reyna's flying horse obsession was finally coming in handy. "He rode you to go save Andromeda! But hang on..." Jason trailed off, another thought coming back. "I thought that was a myth? An addition to the story?"

Pegasus glared at Jason (could horses glare?), then, almost reluctantly, responded. "You should know by now, hero- 'it's a myth' isn't an excuse for anything."

"I thought you belonged to Bellerophon-"

"Woah, woah, woah. Let's get something straight here: I don't _belong_ to anyone. I occaisonally lend my services, that's all. And please- Bellerophon? That fool wouldn't have got within five feet of me if it weren't for Athena. Now, back when I was helping out Perseus? Those were the days." Something in the Pegasus' tone changed; it was softer, almost melancholy. "We flew around saving people, playing with lightening, getting girls- oh man, those Vestal Virgins, let me tell you-"

"You miss him." said Jason, cutting Pegasus off before the horse could continue.

"Excuse me?" the horse said. It sounded like missing someone was a foreign concept to him.

"Perseus. You miss him."

Pegasus snorted, eyes flashing. "Let me get something straight, little demigod. I don't _miss _your kind. Yeah, Perseus and I had some good times. Yeah, he said he'd visit me on Olympus, but he never came. And okay, _maybe _when I heard you say his name on the flying ship, I tracked you down. But that means nothing. In case you haven't noticed, I'm kind of a big deal around here- I do not need a demigod."

Now, Jason and the legendary creature were almost nose to nose. A quick glance around showed that Frank was still unconcious at their feet, and there were no civilians anywhere in sight. Jason looked back at Pegasus.

"We're on a quest. If you can help us, please do; if not: let my friend and I go."

The angry light that had blazed into Pegasus' eyes was still burning, and his nostrils were flaring. His wings shivered slightly, the breeze rustling Jason's hair. At that moment, he knew things weren't going well.

"No. No, I don't think I will. These are my skies, and I don't like being disturbed."

Note to self- reminding giant horses with abandonment issues of their lost friends is _not _a good game plan.

Jason summoned all of his will, and his sword sparked slightly, crackling with electricity. "I'm the son of Jupiter- Zeus."

"Funny, I thought you were familiar with myths- I'll tell you, anyways. It doesn't matter. I'm the chosen one of the house of Zeus. You're just a mistake."

Time to stretch the truth a little. "I am on a quest for Olympus, for my father."

For a moment, Pegasus paused. Then, "I'll take my chances."

Pegasus drew himself up to his full height, tossing his mane to one side. A loud whistling sound echoed across the skies, like wind during a tornado. Perhaps it was Jason's imagination, but the clouds seemed to be closing in around Pegasus, crackling with energy as he leaned menacingly towards Jason.

"Wait." He said, putting as much authority as possible into the one word. Pegasus didn't stop.

At that moment, Jason realized something: In a way, Pegasus was a combination of him, and Percy. Both were powerful alone, but when combined they created something infinitely more forceful. And it was true, he remembered suddenly: Pegasus was a son of Poseidon with the blessing of Zeus. He was more than the sea, or even the skies. He was the rain and the lightening all in one. He was the embodiment of the storm- wild, unrestrainable, forever free.

And that, Jason knew in that instant, was the key.

"He's a son of Poseidon too." blurted Jason. "He's a son of Poseidon, and he is in Tartarus."

Somehow, unbelievably, the horse paused.

"You never let someone close enough to tame you- Perseus is the only one who ever came close, and that's because he understood that you _shouldn't _be tamed.You, me, him, we're all from the sky. We need to be free, and because we have the skies, we are. Percy- I mean, Perseus is a son of Poseidon. He can be trapped, he can be imprisoned- but he w_ill _escape. He will get free."

The storm gathering around Pegasus seemed to thin. Jason pleaded, his voice softer than before. "Help him. For your Perseus, help ours get free."

For a moment, nothing.

Then- "You speak well, son of Zeus." Pegasus lowered himself down to rest on his haunches, eyes meeting Jason's. "I cannot be tamed, it is true. Perseus was the only one who didn't try, and that..." He blinked for a long moment, then his voice seemed to regain some of it's previous power.

"Zeus and Poseidon are more closely tied than you may think. They are brothers, after all."

"So's Hades." Jason said, not breaking eye contact.

For some reason, Pegasus almost seemed to laugh darkly. "Death and Freedom are not as seperated as you'd like to think."

A small sound came from somewhere near the horse's hooves. They both looked down at a stirring Frank, blinking slowly as he came back around. Upon noticing Pegasus, Frank blinked once, very deliberately. He tugged at Jason's leg.

"Please tell me that's not what I think it is."

"Try who, Sleeping Beauty." said Pegasus indignantly.

Frank stared for one long moment, then seemed to shrug it off- something you learned to do all too well, as a demigod.

The horse looked back at Jason. An understanding seemed to pass through them.

"Go see the oracle at Delphi, hero." said Pegasus, with a hint of a smile in his voice. "I lost my Percy. Go save yours."

Jason nodded, a sudden lump in his throat. Save Percy, sure- but add the entire world to that, and it was getting to be a heavy load.

As the legendary winged horse prepared to take off, Frank got shakily to his feet. "That's Pegasus."

"Yep."

"And he wants us to go see the oracle."

"Uh huh."

It was silent, then Frank rubbed the large hoof-shaped bruise on his head. "Gee, man, does everyone you talk to always get knocked out?"

Jason half-smiled, as Pegasus flapped his giant wings once, lifting off the roof and sending shingles flying. "Hey, at least it wasn't me this-"

At that second, one of the flying roof tiles hit Jason on the side of the head, knocking him out cold and dropping like a rock.

Frank looked down at Jason, wondering if he'd somehow jinxed it.

Nah, he'd decided, as he watched the giant winged horse disappearing into the sky. Some things just never changed.


End file.
